Pyro
by xfilesguy123
Summary: Shawn and Gus are attending a psychic convention in Asheville, North Carolina when a sadistic serial killer escapes from police custody. Shawn is recruited by a top FBI agent to help track the killer down. But this killer is far different then any crimina
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is my very first Psych fic ever. I hope I don't disappoint. I am including two original characters that I usually incorporate into fictions that I write. Sterling and Sykes. I got their intros out of the way in this chapter. I would love to hear what you all think of this. This is my first Psych fic. I'm a little nervous.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

PYRO

Chapter 1

Special agent Jim Sterling could hardly look at himself. It was hard for him to be believe the scruffy and red eyed man staring at him from the bathroom window was really a crack FBI agent. He rubbed his temples as they started to ache again. Don't lose it, Jim, thought Sterling to himself. He nearly jumped out of his skin as the bathroom door opened. His partner, Holly Price, couldn't help but chuckle.

"A little jumpy, Jimmy?" asked Holly as she shut the door.

"Yeah, this is only the night I've been waiting for since we first started working together," explained Sterling as he splashed some water on his face. Price sighed.

"Jim, in two hours Derek Sykes will be dead and you'll have your justice," reminded Price as she straightened Sterling's tie. Sterling nodded.

"I can't wait," he growled, fury boiling up inside of him. He had waited too long for this. Too long. Tonight it ended.

……………..

"Turn right up here," ordered Shawn Spencer as he continued to look through the map of North Carolina. Gus rolled his eyes as he made the turn.

"Thanks, Shawn. I didn't see the big old Asheville Turn Right sign back there," snapped Gus. Shawn lowered the map.

"I am just trying to help," defended Shawn.

"Like you helped when you got us lost in Missouri?" asked Gus.

"Hey, the New Jersey map looked a lot like that one," exclaimed Shawn. Gus shook his head as he focused on the road.

"I can't believe I'm here," he muttered.

"Where? In this car?" asked Shawn.

"No. Going to this convention. Why'd you agree to do this?" asked Gus.

"I'm a psychic and this is a psychic convention," explained Shawn for the hundredth time.

"But you're not a psychic. And I think other psychics are going to figure that out," argued Gus as he merged to the right.

"Look I need to keep this image of psychic going. This convention helps with that image," reminded Shawn. "This is a good thing."

"Whatever, Shawn," muttered Gus. He turned on the radio so he wouldn't have to argue anymore.

"Tonight is the night justice will be served. Infamous serial killer Derek Sykes will be put to death finally after sitting on death row for a year. Sykes was convicted of fourteen brutal murders in the Asheville area." Shawn turned the volume down.

"Why do I know that name?" asked Shawn.

"Derek Sykes. The Pyro. He killed fourteen people and set their bodies on fire. Took years for the FBI to catch him," explained Gus.

"Ah right. Man, that gives me the willies," muttered Shawn, shaking a little.

"Sykes is a monster. Eight different psychologists tried to get into his head. He sent one into therapy," explained Gus. "He's the definition of evil."

"You know this how?" asked Shawn, getting a little creeped out.

"I was bored one day and got lost in Google," replied Gus. Shawn nodded knowingly as he and Gus continued to drive towards their hotel. Or at least try to find it.

……………..

"Transport ready for prisoner!" Sterling listened intently as the warden explained everything. Price turned towards him.

"So we brought him to this jail in the city so Dr. Woo could question him? And now he's being taken back to the maximum security prison for execution?" asked Price. Sterling shrugged.

"As long as the needle goes into his arm I could care less," exclaimed Sterling.

"You can be so morbid," growled Price with a sigh. Sterling gave her a dirty look. They both looked up as Dr. Nelson Woo came strolling out of a back room. His face was sheet white.

"Prisoner is waiting for you, warden," announced Woo as he stood next to Sterling and Price. They were standing near the entrance to the parking lot, where a prison van was waiting to take Derek Sykes to his fate. Warden Fulton left with two guards to go get Sykes.

"He's ready to face death. He still gives me the creeps too," explained Woo as Sterling and Price looked at him.

"Did he say anything about finding the last body?" asked Sterling. Woo shook his head.

"Nope. He could care less about it," replied Woo.

"We'll find it, Jim. We know all his dumping grounds. We just need to expand the search," offered Price. Before Sterling could reply, Fulton and the guards returned with a man in an orange prison jumpsuit. Sterling narrowed his eyes as Derek Sykes smiled at him.

"Oh I am so glad you came out, Jimmy," exclaimed Sykes as he approached.

"The pleasure is all mine, Derek," replied Sterling. Sykes grinned.

"Come to wish me luck?" he asked, winking at Price. Price gagged and forced back some bile that came up.

"Nope. Came to make sure you got what was coming to you," explained Sterling with a grin. Sykes narrowed his eyes.

"The game is far from over, Jimmy. In fact, it's just beginning," growled Sykes.

"That's enough. Get this creep to the van," ordered Fulton. Sykes never let his eyes off Sterling as he was led to his awaiting transportation. Price and Woo seemed relieved that at last Derek Sykes was being taken care of. But Sterling couldn't get Sykes last words out of his mind. And little did he know, that Sykes game was in fact, just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh yeah. Chapter 2. Thank you everyone for reviewing. That's so nice. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are explained more. Please keep those reviews coming. I love them.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or anything related to the USA network. **

Chapter 2

The hotel was nice. Far too nice for them, according to Gus but Shawn had insisted at staying somewhere fancy. Besides he was a celebrity psychic where he came from. At least in his own little world.

"Shawn, we are way out of our element here," explained Gus as the two walked towards the front desk. Shawn was too busy looking around to pay any attention to Gus. With just a quick look around he concluded that an old lady had just stolen some splenda and was hiding it in her purse, the fish in the nearby aquarium were sick, and a little kid was trying to take money from his mother's purse. Correction. He had succeeded in taking money from his mother's purse.

"Shawn, are you listening to me?" asked Gus.

"Honestly, no," replied Shawn as he rang the bell on the desk. The desk clerk on duty looked up from her book in annoyance.

"Sir, please don't do that. I'm sitting right here," snapped the clerk as she put her book down. Shawn glanced at the cover.

"Well considering that's a New York Times Bestseller I was thinking you were too engrossed in it to notice," explained Shawn. The clerk narrowed her eyes.

"May I help you?" asked the clerk.

"Yes. I have a reservation. The names Spencer. Shawn Spencer," replied Shawn as he leaned against the desk. Gus rolled his eyes. The clerk quickly looked up Shawn's name in the computer.

"Yes, Mr. Spencer. A suite with two king size beds, a living room, kitchen, and deluxe bathroom," explained the clerk. Shawn nodded.

"Are we moving in here, Shawn?" asked Gus in surprise.

"If you want to. The drive to work everyday would suck though," replied Shawn as the clerk handed him the room keys.

"Thank you, dear," exclaimed Shawn. The clerk sarcastically smiled before returning to her book.

"Shall we?" asked Shawn as he handed Gus his key. Gus sighed as Shawn lead the way towards the elevators. This was going to be a long trip.

……………

Sterling yawned as he drove towards his ex-wife's house. Seeing Sykes always gave him the urge to go visit the woman he had once shared his life with. It was Sykes who had ruined that for them. When he took their oldest son away from them.

Sterling had left Price in charge of dealing with the fallout of Sykes' execution. There was going to be a lot of press to deal with it. It had actually been Price who had offered. Sterling was going to give himself an ulcer if he didn't calm down. In one hour and fifteen minutes, he would be able to relax. Finally he would have closure.

Janet Sterling was sitting on her front porch. She waved as Sterling pulled into the driveway. He groaned when he noticed Janet's fiancés car. This was just what he needed right now. To deal with Paul Norton.

"Are you just going to sit in the car, Jim?" asked Janet. Jim smiled and got out of the car. The cool autumn breeze felt good.

"I'd rather not deal with, Paul," explained Jim as he walked towards the front porch, stepping around Miles' skateboard. That boy had to learn not to leave his things outside.

"Paul's asleep, Jim. You have nothing to worry about," assured Janet.

"What are you doing up?" asked Jim as he leaned against the porch railing.

"I'm waiting for it to be over," explained Janet. She held up a stopwatch she was holding in her lap.

"They call me morbid," mumbled Jim.

"He took him away from us. He took our baby away from us," cried Janet.

"Hey, hey. The bastards going to get what he deserves," assured Jim as he went over and sat down next to Janet. It was going on four years now. Four years since the brutal murder of Nathan Sterling. He had died at the hands of Derek Sykes. He died because the press leaked Sterling's name and Sykes decided to make things personal. He wanted to play a game with the FBI agent on his tail. Nathan was the only child Sykes had killed. Nathan had been killed three days after his twelfth birthday.

"It's all over now. That son of a bitch is finished," murmured Sterling as fresh tears sprang to Janet's eyes.

"Will the pain go away, Jim?" asked Janet. "Once he's dead."

"In all honesty no. But it will make it easier to deal with," replied Sterling.

"He just killed him, Jim. He killed him just to mess with us," exclaimed Janet. Sykes hadn't set Nathan's body on fire. He simply strangled him and left him in a ditch next to the charred body of a nurse he had killed. It had been clear who killed Nathan. There had been no question.

"I know, I know. But he's going to pay for what he did," reminded Sterling. He looked at the stopwatch. One hour and ten minutes to go.

………………

"We get over a hundred channels," announced Shawn as Gus came out of the bathroom.

"Awesome," replied Gus with absolutely no enthusiasm.

"Could you try to be happy? You're on vacation for God's sake," explained Shawn as he muted the TV.

"I don't think I can handle a convention full of Mrs. Cleo wannabes," explained Gus as he sat down on his bed.

"Hey I take offense to that. Mrs. Cleo is a fraud," snapped Shawn.

"So are you!" exclaimed Gus angrily.

"But I don't use a fake accent," defended Shawn.

"But you're still a fraud," replied Gus.

"Do I con people out of money? No. I catch bad guys," exclaimed Shawn as he turned the TV back on.

"Oh yeah, Shawn, you're so noble," muttered Gus as he laid back in bed.

"Want some room service? The kitchen is famous for their steaks," explained Shawn as he threw the room service menu at Gus.

"No thanks. I'd rather just go to sleep," replied Gus as he closed his eyes.

"Suit yourself," said Shawn as he turned the TV volume back on. He was watching some action movie with a very loud car chase. Gus groaned and held a pillow over his head. This was going to be a long vacation.

………………..

Gunther Fulton had been a warden for twenty-five years. He had seen a lot of scum pass through his prison. But no one beat Derek Sykes. The man was emotionless as he sat across from Fulton in the back of the van.

"Fifty-five minutes left," announced Fulton with a grin.

"Yep. I can't wait," replied Sykes. Fulton scoffed and shook his head.

"You are one sick son of a bitch, Sykes," exclaimed Fulton as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Those are going to be the death of you, Gunther," warned Sykes.

"You're going before I do," sneered Fulton. Sykes started to laugh. Fulton was taken aback a little. What the hell?

"God, Sykes, what is wrong with you?" asked Fulton in disgust as he lit his cigarette.

"That was funny, Gunther," replied Sykes with another laugh. Fulton chuckled a little himself.

"For a psychopath you have a good sense of humor," admitted Fulton. Sykes stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. Fulton felt a chill go down his spine. Looking into Sykes eyes was like looking into the eyes of a shark. No emotion. No life. Just a strong desire to kill.

"Do you have to keep calling me a psychopath? I do have a name," explained Sykes. Fulton let out a ring of smoke.

"You're a psychotic freak, Sykes. You strangled a young boy to death with your bare hands," growled Fulton.

"Nathan Sterling was a casualty of war," replied Sykes calmly.

"He was an innocent child, you son of a bitch," snapped Fulton. The van suddenly stopped moving. Fulton felt another chill go up his spine as Sykes grinned evilly. Fulton heard shouting coming from outside. What the hell? He tried to go for his gun when Sykes suddenly broke free of his chains. Impossible, thought Fulton as Sykes slammed his face into the sides of the truck. The door opened and two men jumped in and grabbed Fulton. Sykes nodded at them as he stepped out of the truck. Harold King, one of the guards escorting Sykes, smiled at his new employer.

"Told you I would handle everything. Those fake chains can fool anybody," exclaimed King. He had beaten the young guard with him to within an inch of his life.

"You did good, Harold," replied Sykes as he stole Fulton's pack of cigarettes. His two accomplices, greasy men known only as Lange and Young, had been waiting a long time for this night. Sykes had to keep telling them to be patient.

"Good to see you, Derek," greeted Young as he lit a cigarette for Sykes. Sykes savored the smoke as he breathed in. Damn that felt good.

"King, you son of a bitch. You sold out to a serial killer. This bastard killed a child," growled Fulton. Sykes kicked Fulton in the ribs as Young handed him a gun. Sykes walked over to the wounded prison guard and put a bullet in his head. Fulton muttered under his breath. He should have seen this coming. It had been right there. King had insisted that Sykes be transported under cover of darkness and through back roads. Less risk of being found by any resistance. Sykes had a lot of contacts who were willing to die for him. Young and Lange were two of the worse. King had assured Fulton that the less conspicuous the better. Fulton had been blinded by his hatred for Sykes to ask any questions. King was a veteran too. He had never had a breakout. Damnit Fulton had been such a fool. Sykes had made this easy just to piss in Fulton's face.

"Get him on the grass," ordered Sykes. Fulton was dragged to the side of the road. He started to pray. There was no way out. Sykes went to Young's car for a second. He returned with a red gas can. Fulton started praying louder. He was going to be shot and set on fire. Great way to end a career. Fulton moaned and yelled as Sykes covered him with gasoline. Young pulled Fulton up into a sitting position and handcuffed his hands behind his back. He, Lange, and King then retreated to the car.

"Make it fast, Derek. King can only keep the cops away for so long," explained Lange. Sykes nodded. He backed away from Fulton a little and aimed his gun at Fulton's head.

"Go ahead, you bastard. I'm ready to die," exclaimed Fulton. Sykes smiled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. It was then the horrific truth dawned on Fulton.

"I told you these things would kill you, asshole," growled Sykes. He flicked the cigarette at the gasoline soaked warden. Sykes walked away smiling as Fulton screamed. He was now just a fireball. The flames worked fast and soon Gunther Fulton slumped to the ground. Sykes turned back towards the smoldering pile of death. He smiled.

"Come and get me, Jimmy."


End file.
